


Salvation

by luemeldane



Series: Blue is the color of Grace [1]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Drama, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Slash, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-08-08 07:52:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7749406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luemeldane/pseuds/luemeldane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ace would learn much too late for his liking that the day he met the Whitebeard Pirate’s first division commander, the blond man with a weird hairstyle, was the day he found his saving grace.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Salvation

**Author's Note:**

> This story was not revised. I'm a brazilian writer and english is not my first language. If you find (which you probably will) any mistakes, please let me know so I can both correct it and improve my english-writting skills!
> 
> I changed the title because I've decided to make it into a series. The original title is now the title of the series.

It was true that Ace was grateful to Whitebeard. He was beyond grateful, actually. Edward Newgate was the one person who was willing to call him “son” and that came with no price tag. He would kill and die for his Oyaji. But the link he had with the man was not his first sense of family. To Ace, Garp was as much his grandfather as he was Luffy’s. He considered Dadan and the mountain thieves a weird and dysfunctional, yet very dear family. He had Luffy and Sabo, his beloved brothers. It was not a matter of importance - both the Whitebeard Pirates and the people he left behind in the Dawn Island were equally important and he loved every one of them with the same intensity. But Ace had a darkness that crept up inside of him that none of them could get through. 

It had nothing to do with Roger, as he liked to claim. It had in the beginning, since the Pirate King’s blood coursing through his veins was the reason why he was forced to learn about hate and violence at such an young age as he did. But it didn’t anymore. During his journey through the seas of the world Ace had come across people who loved and hated Gol D. Roger, who idolized and demonized the legendary man. He was able to understand that Roger himself was neither a saint nor a demon, but as human as the next man. It soothed his soul a little, lifted part of the heavy weights he carried on his shoulder since he was a child. But the void that was once created inside his chest could not be filled by understanding alone. He lived the most vulnerable time of his life feeling like his very existence was the greatest of the sins. He felt unwanted, he felt alone, he felt like he didn’t deserve love and and that the hatred he received served him just right. He simply couldn’t shake this feeling off. It ran too deep within his being, at a depth that not even Luffy or Whitebeard could reach. 

It is true that the brunette had learn to live with that awful feeling. He wouldn’t go as far as to say that it didn’t hurt anymore, but it certainly wasn’t as crippling as it once was. Ace was fairly certain that it was his fate to live like that, forever in search for fulfillment. It was his journey - fruitless and endless. He knew his life would change the day he met Whitebeard, but he wasn’t aware at the time that the relentless fate he once accepted would do as well. And as grateful as he was towards his captain, the crucial existence that single handed threw Ace’s life for a loop was not that of the gigantic man, but that of the one who was standing by his right side. 

Ace would learn much too late for his liking that the day he met the Whitebeard Pirate’s first division commander, the blond man with a weird hairstyle, was the day he found his saving grace. 

He had no memories of being carried to the whale-like ship, the Moby Dick, as he was unconscious. His wounds and his exhaustion from the fight with Jimbei knocked him out for three days. Without waiting for his consent, the ship set sail with him onboard - Whitebeard was not someone who could afford simply hanging out in an improperly guarded place after all. The next thing he remembered was waking up to an unfamiliar empty room and leaving it to be grazed by a very very familiar salty breeze. He allowed himself to panic for a moment, pulling at his hair as if to wake himself up from a nightmare. When the strange guy dressed as a cook appeared, introduced himself as Tatch and explained his situation, fear and desperation were overpowered by sheer anger and he made the first attempt against Newgate’s life.  


As the days went by, he continued trying and pitifully failing to kill Whitebeard, being sent flying through the air each time and often having to be rescued from the sea. When he wasn’t executing his murderous plans, he observed the crew he was currently amongst. They were very interesting and joyful and Ace just couldn’t make any sense out of them. How could they be so friendly with the enemy onboard? How could they be so kind to the man who was trying to kill his beloved captain? Why did they try so hard to break through his walls and make him a part of them? He watched everyone and each one of them as well. They all had very particular personalities and anyone would think that a bunch of eccentric fellows like them could not coexist in the same environment, yet they did and Ace would not admit it out loud at the time, but it was beautiful. 

His eyes were always dragged, however, by the sight of blond hair. Marco, the Phoenix, was even more different from the rest of his crew than the members were between themselves. He was more stoic, expressing neither joy nor sorrow easily. And that’s exactly why it was so meaningful when he did. He always wore a mature expression that seemed to give away the real intensity and deepness of his being. It could be the aura that came along with the power of such a mysterious and mystic creature as the Phoenix, but sometimes it seemed to Ace that Marco was a person that came from another time and another place. His eyes held the sort of serene wisdom that only an ancient being, who came to comprehend the world as it really was and accepted it, could bear.

That’s why the day that Marco left a bowl of hot soup by his side without saying a word, he felt a warm sensation spreading throughout his body. He was physically tired from trying to kill Whitebeard on everyday basis and mentally exhausted from trying to make sense of the situation he was in. He, who was always unwelcomed in the places he wanted to be, was now being welcomed in a place he never asked to join. He didn’t have to make an effort to be accepted and that was just surreal. The real world was fighting against the part of his brain who was convinced that he didn’t deserve any affection and it was driving Ace to his break point. When even the man who seemed so out of this world showed his silent kindness, he felt the urge to ask about everything, because if Marco didn’t have the answer, no one else would. 

“Why do you guys call him your father anyway?” he asked in a tone way more defiantly than he intended.

“Because he calls us his sons.” he answered. It was so simple that to anyone it would sound foolish. Yet the feelings conveyed by the way Marco said it touched the very core of his heart. “To the rest of the world we’re all just outcasts. It makes us happy. It is just a word, but it makes us happy!” the blonde continued, flashing a smile so bright that blinded Ace for a moment. It was the words that made tears fill up his eyes and it was the smile that made his heartbeat speed up. Anything that could make a man like Marco smile like a little child was bound to be powerful and he was invited to be a part of such a strong bond. It was so amazing that he actually couldn’t bring himself to believe it. 

He crossed his arms over his knees and hid his face, trying to stop the tears from rolling down. He sensed the blond haired man turn around and approach him and suddenly his heart made an attempt to jump off his chest. Marco’s presence was so warm and so strong that it made him shiver. The man then knelt in front of him and spoke again.

“Hey, how long are you gonna keep risking your life like this? Make up your mind already! You can’t possibly take the old man’s head the way you are now. Are you gonna get off this ship and start over or are you gonna stay here and accept Whitebeard’s mark?” he said firmly, yet softly, showing genuine concern. Ace could lie to himself and say that staying on the ship was a choice he made after that talk with Marco, but the truth is that by the end of the conversation there was no choice at all. Despite the doubts that his overactive and traumatized mind insisted to bring to light, his heart had already chosen to stand by the man who dared to call him his son and by the man whose eyes seemed capable to lay bare any soul. 

Ace didn’t know how much time they stayed like that before he felt a warm touch in his forearm. Marco had stretched his arm and his big hand (way bigger than Ace’s) gripped his limb. It was only then that the brunette realized he was shaking like a leaf in the middle of a storm. It surprised him and he lifted his head, eyes opened wide. What would the commander of the first division think after seeing him in such a fragile state? Would Ace appear weak to his eyes? But what he saw in those deep black orbs were far from pity or disappointment. Marco’s eyes were as wide as his, as if he didn’t expect that the other man would be so affected. After looking deeply into the boy’s eyes, his expression softened as if in that brief moment he understood Ace’s entire life and every single one of his feelings. 

The boy felt exposed, but contrary to what even he would expect from himself, he didn’t pull away from the touch nor tried to hide back in his shell. He let Marco see him, all of him. The man then gave him a reassuring and very fond smile, as if to say that everything would be alright. And for the first time in his life, Ace believed it.


End file.
